


Sorrow and that which is not sorrow

by queenofseventeen



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, M/M, Marigolds, erik and nicky are making an ofrenda, people died ofcourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 14:17:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14357226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofseventeen/pseuds/queenofseventeen
Summary: Andrew didn’t have a reason left to live when Neil died in Baltimore, and Nicky is dead set on remembering them.





	Sorrow and that which is not sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to exy-courts aka Julia for putting up with this story when it was still a mess. After everything you've done to help me, I should call you a co-creator (once I find you ao3 handle) Thank you for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title from the Mexican folk song La Llorona [english translation]. 
> 
> Sorrow and that which is not sorrow, Llorona  
> Everything is sorrow for me  
> Yesterday I cried 'cause I wanted to see you, Llorona  
> Now I cry because I saw you

Nicky stood in line at the florist. The bouquets of marigolds tightly gripped between his fingers. It had been two years since he moved to Stuttgart to be with Erik, and it had been four and a half years since Andrew slipped between his fingers. 

 

_ The high pitched scream waking him up the next morning still rang in his ears.  _

_ Nicky remembered the Baltimore chaos. How the team wouldn’t leave without Neil, and only then when they were told Neil was dead. Saw his body lying in a casket. Andrew hadn’t shown up to the funeral. Nobody had been able to find him for the rest of the day as they all went back to Wymack’s to drown themselves in whiskey and vodka, and whatever else the foxes could find to forget the death of that sweet boy who hadn’t deserved to die. He didn’t appear even when it got out that Neil Josten had actually been Nathaniel Wesninski, and that Neil -  _ Nathaniel’s _ father was murdered on the same night.  _

 

It was Nicky’s turn at the register. He gave the woman behind the counter a soft smile as he presented the flowers and paid for them. Bright orange. Nicky had never truly understood why his ancestors, or whoever decided the traditions he still followed would choose orange for Dias de Los Muertos, but it was fitting for Andrew and Neil. They had both been foxes before they left. 

Nicky slowly wound his way home dragging his feet. He didn’t want to do this. Nicky wasn’t even fully Mexican, but if he wasn’t going to remember, then who would? Nicky knew that Andrew and Neil wouldn’t be able to visit from the afterlife unless someone put their picture up at the ofrenda. 

 

_ Nicky remembered stumbling home with Aaron and Kevin since Andrew wasn't there to drive. How he had crawled into his bed and snuggled under the covers. Nicky hadn’t even thought to look if Andrew had made it safely into his own bed. He was too out of it to even cry, and even then, Nicky’s tears had run out hours, maybe days, before. Neil had been gone for so long already.  _

_ Nicky had woken up with one of the worst hangovers in his life which were saying something. His palms pressed against his ears to shut out the shrill sound of someone’s alarm until Nicky realized they were screams. Him being who he was, Nicky went downstairs to check it out. Maybe one of the football players was being a dick again and, had tripped a girl on the street. Allison would probably know the player’s name if he asked her. They could talk about that at least. _

 

Nicky shook his head free of the memories and opened the door to Erik and his second-floor apartment. Erik was already standing near a low table. Candles and lighters were strewn around him. Nicky swallowed against the tightness in his throat. Had it always been so hard to breathe?

Erik looked up as the door closed and came to Nicky when he saw the look on his face. Erik wrapped Nicky in his arms and didn’t flinch when the soft petals of the Marigolds stroked his neck. 

“Andrew never liked it when I hugged him,” Nicky said softly. “His time in foster care had never been kind to him. I’m glad that Aaron killed Drake.” Nicky felt bad for admitting that. He would ask for forgiveness the next time he visited his church, but he loved Andrew too much to take it back, or say he didn’t mean it.“I know,” Erik answered. “But Andrew did care for you. He wanted to protect you. You gave him a home.” Nicky nodded as he breathed in the familiar cologne Erik was wearing. Nicky had gotten him it for his last birthday just a couple of weeks before Baltimore. 

 

_ Nicky had pushed his way through the already forming crowd. A bad feeling nagged in his chest. It was too early for all those people to be out on the streets anyway. Faintly he heard someone yell to call 911 but Nicky kept pushing. He didn’t want to see what had happened, but he needed to know. _

_ Had that part of the sidewalk always been so close to the wall? Had that wall always been so high? _

 

Nicky pulled away and walked towards the tiny ofrenda he had made with Erik. He didn’t have photos of many of his elderly relatives, but he trusted his mother to take care of them. Not that much good had ever come from her or his blood family. 

Nicky lowered himself to his knees and put the photo up. Just one featuring two people, just close enough to be considered something more than friends. Their coats were dark and Nicky remembered thinking that finally, finally, Neil would have a piece of clothing that fit him that wasn’t just for a club. Black to match Andrew’s own coat. He placed the candles and flowers strategically around it. A small plate of food on the same table. Nicky would’ve put down chocolate ice cream beside the small selection of fruit, but it would melt too quickly. 

 

 _Finally, he had reached the front of the crowd and wished he hadn’t. In front of him lay a mangled body in a dark pool of blood, garishly red against the white sidewalk. Andrew’s armbands were gone, and Nicky’s eyes flickered over the crisscrossed scars on both arms. He put a hand to his mouth in a silent sob. How had he never noticed this about his cousin? How had he been so oblivious?  In a perverted sort of way, Nicky thought about how Andrew had made sure not to jump from a building too low. Andrew was -_ had always _been a smart, young man. A broken man._

_ Nicky didn’t think he had ever, or would ever, fail someone as much, but at least Andrew was safe from the world now.  _

_ He felt relieved for the end of his cousin’s pain. _

_ He felt sick at himself for feeling relieved. _

 

One by one Nicky lighted the candles before sinking back into Erik’s arms. “Tell me about them,” Erik said.

So Nicky did. With tears slipping down his face, Nicky told Erik every story he knew about Neil and Andrew, together and apart, as he stared without seeing at the picture of Neil and Andrew in their matching coats at the airport, Neil with a smile on his face, and Andrew turned towards him. The corners of his lips turned up just so. 

Nicky might have failed Andrew, but at least he was safe up there with Neil. 

**Author's Note:**

> <3   
> @queen-of-seventeen on tumblr


End file.
